


Growth and Development I

by agentz123



Series: Duck Twin Week 2021 [6]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: (Since We Don’t See it in the Show but That’s None of My Business), Angst, Comfort, Coparenting, Dad! Donald, Disconnect from family, Donald Duck was in the navy, Duck Twin Week, Duck Twin Week (Disney), Duck Twin Week 2021, Duck Twin Week 2021 (Disney), Duck Twins, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Parent Donald Duck, HONORARY NIECE WEBBY, Honorary Duck Family Member Launchpad McQuack, Honorary Duck Family Member Lena (Disney: Ducktales), Honorary Duck Family Member Webby Vanderquack, Just to Cause Angst, Louie Duck Needs a Hug, Louie is Babie, Louie is definitely Donald’s Mini Me, Parent Della Duck, Puberty and Adolescence, Reference to S1’s “The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck!”, Reference to S2’s “What Ever Happened to Della Duck?!”, Reminiscing, Role Confusion, Slight AU - Baby Birds Have Yellow Down, The Extended McDuck-Duck Family Members Only Make a Single Appearence, Twin Bond, Veteran Donald Duck, moulting, she is trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentz123/pseuds/agentz123
Summary: Louie grows up.Duck Twin Week 2021, Day 4 - Comfort (Donald)
Relationships: Della Duck & Louie Duck, Donald Duck & Della Duck, Donald Duck & Della Duck & Louie Duck, Donald Duck & Louie Duck
Series: Duck Twin Week 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094204
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	Growth and Development I

Louie woke up itchy.

He grumbled out his brothers’ names, hoping one of them would be willing to scratch that hard to reach spot on his back, but of course, he was the last one to start the day. He went to sit up, but he felt awfully tired. Not in his usual, lazy way, but a painful one. It felt like someone had taken a million thumbtacks and jabbed them into every one of his muscles while he slept. He was too exhausted to even whimper, but managed to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom anyway.

Once he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, however, he was unable to refrain from shrieking. 

* * *

Donald squinted suspiciously as he counted the number of occupied seats at the table. Of course, at the head and quietly sipping his gross nutmeg tea was Scrooge McDuck, then to his right sat Webby and Huey, who were exchanging the apple and orange juices while chatting about a few lost mysteries. Dewey watched in amazement as Launchpad scarfed down some weird combination of bacon and syrup, and Violet was absent-mindedly handing the pilot a napkin as she discussed dreams with her newly adoptive sister, Lena. Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth were setting down the last plates of pancakes, and out of the corner of his eye, Della was sneaking potatoes off of his plate.

“Where’s Louie?” he called over the noisy table. As usual, no one paid him any mind—except for Della.

He would never be able to put into words how happy he was to have her back.

Normally Louie would be sitting across from her, sleeping in his oatmeal. She frowned and put down her fork. “Maybe he’s still asleep. I’ll go get him.” She took one last bite of hash from Don’s plate and headed upstairs to the boys’ room. 

“Reb? Erm, Louie? Are you here?” Della tapped on the door before pushing it open, making her way through toys and camera equipment. She frowned as she noticed how the sheets bottom bunk were strewn about (no matter how much he bragged about being lazy, for some reason Louie always made his bed) and how a few feathers were scattered across the room. 

Something was horribly wrong. 

Terrified, Della darted back into the hall, following the trail. She picked up on how instead of being as golden as butter, they were as dull like the dying embers of a fire. They led her to the second floor bathroom, where she could make out racking sobs. 

“LOUIE! Are you in there being kidnapped?” She reared her real leg in preparation to ram down the door, but Louie screeched. 

“No! This is—just—something WEIRD is happening to me!” 

“Poisoning? Being tickled to death? Being forced to gargle marshmallow paste?”

“No!”

Della lowered her leg, assessing that her kid wasn’t in any actual danger. “Oh. Okay. Um. Do you want me to come in, or…?”

“ _No!_ This is private! You wouldn’t understand anyway.” 

After wrestling with herself, trying to decide whether he really DID want her to go or that he was just shouting because he actually wanted her to stay, Della sulked off. “Okay, alright! Nice going, Della. You completely blew it. What is even going on? What did he mean, ‘I wouldn’t understand anyway?’! I understand plenty of things!” 

“Well, not to help my kid…”

_YOU wouldn’t understand anyway._

“OH! Oh. Oh…”

She dragged herself through a fog of humiliating realization and into the kitchen and found her brother fussing over the coldness of Louie’s food. He caught a glance at her face and immediately jumped up in worry. “What are you doing? Where’s Louie? I thought you were taking care of it.”

Della nervously kicked at the linoleum with her new leg, avoiding Donald’s concerned glare. “I think he’s having...boy issues? Idon’treallyknowDonit’sjustyeah.”

“Oh! Um, alright. Where is he?”

“The second floor bathroom.”

“Okay, let’s go grab some clean sheets first…Louie will probably want to go back to bed.”

After guiding his sister to the correct linen closet (“Yes, Mrs. B forced Uncle Scrooge to remodel upstairs as well.”) Donald looked up at his sister in confusion. “There’s nothing wrong here.”

“What?”

He ignored her in favor of rushing down the hall. He gave the third door on the right a soft set of knocks. “Louie? Llewelyn, it’s your mom and uncle Donald. Can we come in?” 

The locked door immediately swung open as the duckling pushed past his mother in order to clutch his uncle’s waist. Della caught herself looking away in bitter shame. 

_It’s alright, Della. Nothing personal.  
No, not really. Everything’s personal._

“Uncle Donald! I’m balding! I’m too young to die!”

“Oh, Louie…” Donald took a knee in order to cup his kid’s cheeks in his palms. “You’re not dying. You’re just losing your down and getting your adult feathers.”

Louie quickly pulled away from his uncle, confusion and disgust and anger and disappointment dripping off his beak. “WHAT. THEY DON’T JUST CHANGE COLOR!”

Della couldn’t restrain her chuckle, both Louie and Donald glared at her. “I’m sorry, boys. It’s just...Louie, you remind me a little of Don when HE was moulting.”

Louie swiped at his eyes. “What...what do you mean?”

__

Della shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t typical of her to pass up regaling in an embarrassing tale about her brother, but she’s never seen Louie like this. Usually he was cool, nonchalant. Independent?

__

She looked over at Donald, and he shook his head. No? Not independent. She widened her eyes, pleading for a little more, and she watched as he mouthed a single word.

__

_Reserved._

__

That’s right! Louie’s...well, he...he was guarded. Didn’t allow anyone to see his true emotions. Preferred to analyze others instead of herself. Um, himself. 

__

Louie sniffled, waiting patiently. He had grown to like stories—even ones about old people—after Uncle Scrooge told him about him and Goldie out in the pioneer days or whatever. And it was pretty cool how someone thought he had something in common with his uncle Donald. The duckling had always felt like he didn’t truly belong in this family, especially after his mom came back from the moon. 

__

She swallowed and knelt down too.

__

“It was one morning. Maybe one of the best mornings of my life. I think that’s because I USUALLY had to look at Donald’s ugly mug as he drooled into his cereal, but he was late to breakfast that day.”

__

“Oh, yeah. I hated getting up early,” Don chuckled, wringing out a washcloth before gently wiping his nephew’s sticky beak. 

__

“Hated getting up early? Who are you and what have you done to Donald Duck?”

__

“Are you kidding? Don used to complain ALL OF THE TIME about getting up at 4am to swab the deck.”

__

The duckling’s eyes widened in surprise at the new information and how his uncle growled at his mom for revealing such. “We’ll put a pin in it,” Louie smirked innocently. Donald’s stomach churned. That would definitely be coming to bite him in the pinfeathers later. “Anyways. Mom?”

__

“But yeah. I went upstairs to get him and guess what I found? A little pink ball of flesh trying to replace his feathers with a yellow highlighter!”

__

“That’s nothing! Remember when you tried to glue that raincoat to yourself?”

__

“Oh, I’ve got to hear that one!”

__

Louie barely paid attention to how the moulting ointment stung, instead favoring how his uncle laughed and flapped his arms, acting out the stories he told as the morning pushed on.

__

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking of doing another growth and development story but with Scrooge, Donald, and Webby instead. Any interest for that?


End file.
